


The Moon

by raunchyandpaunchy



Series: Sun's Dawn [6]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Foe Yay, One Shot, Werewolf Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy
Summary: Astrid decides she has some questions for the Companions' resident Huntress.





	The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Some context: this ship exists within the larger universe of my fics, which sees both Astrid and Aela in the same Guild (although this one's absolutely more for pleasure than business). In this arrangement, Astrid and Arnbjorn are poly, and despite Aela and Arn not really caring for each other, it's all above board. If you wanna read a smutty one-shot about it, you can find that [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792237).

Masser and Secunda loomed large in the sky, their opalescent light pouring down onto the green and amber grass of Whiterun's plains. Nearby, a rabbit scattered from the brush, bounding across the rugged terrain. Before it could reach its destination, Aela’s arrow pierced it through, crimson staining the earth below.

“Nice shot,” a voice said to her left, startling her from her razor-sharp focus. When she turned around, a woman sat on the rock next to her, blonde and statuesque, observing.

Aela frowned. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I believe you can. You can tell me why your outfit kicked my husband out.”

“It’d help if I knew who you or your husband were,” Aela said, irritated. “We’ve kicked out a few whelps.”

The woman almost looked offended at not being recognised. “I would’ve assumed my reputation preceded me. Or at very least, that my armour would give me away.” She sniffed. “Still. My husband was more than a mere _whelp._ He was one of your circle. He shares your blood, your gift.”

Realisation hit Aela. “Arnbjorn. And that must make you…”

“Astrid. Mistress of the Dark Brotherhood.” Her eyebrow cocked, obviously unimpressed at having to announce herself. “So if I were you, I’d start explaining.”

Aela felt her hackles rise at the veiled threat. “You don’t scare me.”

“Really?” Astrid smirked. “Good.” Something like admiration briefly crossed her face, before disappearing under that same facade of impassiveness that she seemed to have perfected.

“Your husband was asked to leave the Companions,” Aela said evenly, “because instead of working and fighting alongside his shield-brothers and sisters with honour, _he_ chose to stray to his own path of stubbornly doing what he wanted.”

“You mean because he refused to be your group’s obedient lapdog?”

Aela growled, low and rumbling in her chest. “He squandered his gift. He was a liability and a prick to boot.”

Astrid appeared not to hear Aela’s words. “Are you an obedient lapdog, I wonder?” Her frost-blue eyes glinted with something sinister and wild. “I bet you are, Aela.” Her tongue curled around every syllable, carefully considering them, as if enjoying the way they felt on her tongue.

Something about the way she said it made blood course through Aela’s body. Every word that left Astrid’s mouth felt like some sort of challenge, like she was daring her to make something of their encounter, and the way she’d said her name—like it was sweet honey and bitter poison combined—gave her the push to act. Aela felt her bestial side begin to take over, bones aching as they warped into something harsher and hardier, fur sprouting out of her skin like springtime grass. Her head pounded. Blood rushed in her ears. Her claws dug into the damp clod as she rode out the agonising change, feeling and hearing her heart race with boundless, starving energy.

Aela looked up at Astrid, who suddenly looked so tiny and fragile and so, so appetising. She licked her fangs, growling in challenge at the woman in front of her, sizing her up. She listened. Astrid’s heart rate hadn’t increased, nor could she smell the sour tang of fear that often lingered on a person. Impressive. Maybe it made sense that the head of the Brotherhood wouldn’t be so easily intimidated. Aela snarled.

“Come on then, pup,” Astrid said, gesturing towards her as if she were little more than a hound. “Show me what you’re made of.”

Aela lunged at Astrid, teeth bared and every inch of her itching to tear the woman limb from limb. More agile than Aela expected, Astrid rolled out of the way, and Aela pinned nothing but dirt underneath her. She turned, saliva dripping from her maw, sniffing around for the assassin. Nightshade. Pine. Damp and sweat and something maddeningly intoxicating that tugged at Aela’s nostrils. She was near—too near—

Weight hit her as Astrid jumped on top of her back, fists gripping relentlessly to her thick fur as her lithe frame wrapped around her body. Aela struggled, trying to shake free the assassin, but she clung on like a limpet, refusing to break loose. The pair fell to the ground, Aela rolling around in the grass and brush, claws swinging desperately over her shoulder towards Astrid. She could feel her grasp loosening, hear Astrid’s laboured breaths as she fought. Aela jerked around, finally throwing Astrid from her back.

Astrid picked herself up, dusted herself off. She smiled at Aela. “I see,” she said, still catching her breath, “that I underestimated you.” She downed the contents of a small glass vial, and suddenly she disappeared from sight. “Until we meet again, huntress.”

With that, Astrid was gone, leaving nothing but the light of the twin moons in her place.


End file.
